Lucky?
by crazed-ink-slinger
Summary: One day a girl, as different from christine as night from day, comes to the opera popluare in hopes of starting a new life free of previous troubles and escaping memories of her past.She might not be so lucky, but Erik may.
1. Unseen Eyes

A/N: Hi! I first got hooked on poto when I saw the movie! Ideas have been playing out in my mind since and I just had to share one! Ashley won't be in on this one but hopefully I can capture some of her humor! Maybe my editor/beta, cinafran, will add some of that. Oh and by the way, I've redone the first two chapters, again. This is the last time thought! Promise!

Disclaimer: I don't own any sexy disfigured men of mystery with angelic voices or their stories; this means Erik.

Chapter one: Unseen eyes.

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As Monifa stepped out of the carriage and saw the Opera Populare for the first time, one word came to mind, gaudy. Although Monifa appreciated the grandeur and romantic quality, she couldn't help but think it was just a smidge overdone, being the skeptical, straight forward person she was. Still she hesitated in her first step; the huge opera house was very intimidating. It had to be the largest building she'd ever seen, for back home on her fathers estate, they'd never really traveled much.

_"I can do this,"_ she thought as she straightened her back and lifted her head slightly, _"I'm as good as any of them"_. So with this Monifa set off up the steps to the huge front doors. When she entered, a woman with graying hair approached.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Um ... yes, I'm looking for a Madame Giry; do you know where I can find her?" Monifa asked regaining her normal confident manner.

"I am Madame Giry. Am I correct in presuming you are Monifa?"

"Yes, I am she." Monifa confirmed.

"Welcome to your new home. Follow me; I am to take you to the room your father has ordered," Madame Giry said, and with that, she turned around and headed inside.

As Monifa followed, she could feel the eyes of patrons following her, some disapprovingly. Then again, Monifa was used to this. Because she was black it was extremely unusual for many to see her in such fine clothing. Monifa decided to break the ice and go for bold as she always did. She would not let prejudice get the upper hand.

"Hello everybody," Monifa began, savoring the looks of shock on faces all around her as the room went silent "Because it seems you all are so interested in my arrival, at least enough so to stop and stare, I would like to introduce myself. I am Monifa Firmin, the only niece of my dear uncle Richard, and I have come to live at the Opera house to further train my voice Thank you for the wonderful welcome, and because you all seem so interested, I'll be here all week! Now I am deeply tired from my trip and must take my leave of you!" With that said, Monifa lavishly gathered her things and swept down the hall and out of sight.

Another pair of eyes, undetected by anyone, watched this new girl curiously, wondering why she was here. Though their owner was extremely amused at how this girl had completely shocked the gossipers into silence, there was something strange about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something unnerving. The feeling was not much liked so, with a swish of a black cape, the eyes disappeared.

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A/N: I'm not racist! It's just how it was back then (though it's so wrong) and prejudice will be a main antagonist. Hope you enjoyed. It'll be more exciting the next chapter. Sorry I had to cut it short, until next time… something (weird phrase when you think about it). Review! Or else!


	2. Calm Before the Storm

A/N: Thanks to Indea Moore and Meaghan, you're the only reviewers so far…I'm glad you both like it, Meaghan; you'll find out more about Monifa's past next chapter (I can't believe I misspelled erik, argh!)! Thanks to Cinafran! I couldn't do it without her expert edit/beta job!

Disclaimer: I do not own any sexy disfigured men of mystery with angelic voices or their stories. This means Erik. (Sigh)

It's next time! So here it is, the promised something!

Chapter 2: Calm Before the Storm.

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"That was very bold," Madame Giry scolded, "I expect that we will not witness any other such outbursts." Despite her harsh words, Monifa could see a flicker of humor briefly pass the other woman's eyes. This was only noticed because of the years of having to be able to read others.

"Expect what you will," Monifa said jokingly, letting out the laughter she'd held back for the last few minutes. This time, a brief smile touched her lips before Madame Giry could stop it. "Come, I will take you to your room," she said as she set off through the unfinished labyrinth that was the back of the Opera house. Monifa hurried to keep up with Madame Giry, and had to doge the many pine beams, ladders, and workers finishing the reconstruction after the fire.

When Giry finally stopped she was in front of a plain door, with a key in hand. She put it in the lock and, with a little trouble because of its slightly rusted state, a click sounded allowing the door to be opened.

"This room is all yours to do whatever you like with," Madame Giry instructed and added as an after thought, "within reason of course."

"Thank you so much," Monifa said seriously. She appreciated what her uncle was doing for her and this woman's part in it, however small it may be.

Madame Giry smiled at the girl before her and left her last instructions. "You must be tired after your long travel. On the table in the corner, there is a bit of food you may eat for lunch. Your uncle requests your presence for dinner tonight at 7:00 sharp. Since you are new to the Opera, my daughter will return to help you find your way. Also, because you are new, I suggest you stay here till then. We do not want you to get … lost." She placed the key in Monifa's hand and set off back down the hall.

Looking around the room Monifa saw that it was a rectangular shape and that the back quarter was elevated, with single step leading up to it. The floor was a finished wood with a few scattered purple rugs of various shapes and sizes that matched the lavender wall paper, all slightly worn and faded. The front three fourths of the room contained a small off-white and lavender sofa and wood chair along with a medium size dresser and a vanity table, next to which, was a full size mirror. In the elevated part of the room lay a twin canopy bed, also lavender, and a curtain to pull around for privacy.

This part of the Opera, she noticed was far enough back that it had escaped the fire that had ravaged much of the stage and area behind it.

Monifa had never been one to tire easily, but realized that she was hungry after her long journey. Noticing the food on a small tray on the table in the corner, Monifa sat down and ate some of the cheese, bread, and grapes on it. When she was done, Monifa quickly became aware of the emptiness pressing around her, and though she was not a stranger to it, she wanted to keep from her mind the memories it brought with it. Against Madame Giry's advice she decided to go explore the Opera that was to be her home.

_"Besides,"_ she reasoned with herself, _"I cannot expect someone will always be here to help me find my way. And as it is my uncle's Opera house, what could possibly happen?"_ This decided, she opened the door and started out. Monifa decided to start at the top and move down, so she set off for one of the furthest corners where she saw a metal spiral stair case. The stars led farther than she'd first thought and soon she found herself at a door in the topmost part of the opera.

Monifa opened the door and discovered that it led not into a room, but onto the rooftop of the Opera Populare. It was not as light as it should have been at five o'clock, and the first thing that greeted her as she stepped out onto the roof was a strong gust of wind that slammed the door behind her. The normally brilliant blue sky was dark with storm clouds, and the city, unusually quiet. The still before a storm fell upon her.

Monifa took a deep breath, absorbing the strange powerful calm, and wonderful scent that came before the rain. Her train of thought was broken when a movement beside a statue at the very edge of the roof caught her eye. She approached the statue and when she looked behind it, saw nothing.

_"That's strange,"_ Monifa thought, _"I could have sworn I..."_ Her thoughts where immediately cut off as a strange hand caught her shoulder. She stiffened, as her reflexes took over, and used her elbow in a swift backward stab, in the direction she thought the stranger to be in. Monifa felt her arm make contact as the breath was knocked out of the person behind her.

She turned around quickly to face the intruder ready to take further action if necessary. She was met with the sight of a man dressed in clothes that couldn't be mistaken as those of anyone but a worker. He was about six foot one, very tan, had light brown, almost blonde hair and fascinating grey eyes. When Monifa finally noticed his face was an interesting shade of red, she couldn't decide if it was from her hit, or the embarrassment clear on his face. At any length it was clear that he had no intention of harming her.

"I'm very sorry," she stammered, "I thought you … well I don't know exactly what I was thinking. It was just a reflex, I suppose..."

"Don't worry about it," he said apologetically, "I'm afraid it's my fault for sneaking up on you."

"But that's really no excuse for my actions. I am sorry." Monifa apologized silently berating herself for her actions.

"No, really its fine," he said, "I just came up here to make sure you made it back alright."

"I can take care of myself," Monifa said slightly offended.

"I'm quite certain you're right," he assured her, rubbing the spot where she had hit him, "but you see, I had just come in off the street from fetching supplies not a minute before I saw you climbing the stairs up here. The wind was strong enough almost to make me lose my balance, and I was worried you might fall…or something"

Realizing he'd only been concerned and that her anger was a bit uncalled for, Monifa tried to show her understanding. "I'm Monifa; it's nice to meet you..."

"Oh forgive my manners, my name is Beau." He clarified, holding out his hand.

"Don't worry about it. It's my manners that need forgiving." Monifa said taking his hand and shaking it. They stood in silence for a few moments, enjoying the fresh air and watching people below hunting for shelter from the storm, before Monifa broke the silence.

"Don't you love the weather right before a storm?"

"I can't say I do. It makes me feel a little jumpy and it seems a bit dismal. Though, I guess I can see why one would." Beau said truthfully. As the last words left his mouth, a terrible burst of wind came that nearly made them both lose their balance and fall backwards.

"I guess we should be getting in. You were right about this wind," Monifa said as they both rose to their feet. Beau nodded, motioned for her to go first, then followed behind so as to catch her should she loose her balance again.

As they reached the door, Beau turned to her and said "I do hope I'll see you again, after all, you'll be here all week right?"

"You heard that?" Monifa laughed, "I didn't realize I had such an audience. I do hope no one else remembers."

"What, something that priceless?" Beau said, laughing too, as he opened the door for her. "There's no way anyone could forget that." When they reached the bottom of the stairs Monifa turned to face Beau.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for you. I need a little humor now and then," he joked.

Monifa laughed, "Well don't count on any more 'priceless' words from me. It was a pleasure meeting you Beau." With that, she turned away and headed back to her room. When she reached her door, she was careful to be sure Beau wasn't watching as she let herself in. She wasn't quite sure she wanted anyone to know where she slept, as of yet.

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A/N: Hope you liked it! I know this chapter still didn't have much phantom at all, but it's coming! I promise a better look at Monifa next chapter! Till then! Review! Oh and thanks to my two new reviewers and Silverwolfsingstothemoon! I am working on another chapter now that I've got these how I want them!


	3. Present Past

A/N: Another chapter down! This is the chapter with the promised explanation of Monifa's past! Hope you like! I really appreciate reviewers! And please leave one, even if it's only like one word, or to say, hey u stink! I'd like to know!

Disclaimer: I do not own any sexy disfigured men of mystery with angelic voices or their stories; this means Erik. (sigh)

Chapter three: Present Past.

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Monifa took a last look at her reflection and made a few last minute adjustments. The least she could do to repay her uncle was to look suitable when she arrived for dinner. She was wearing a gold colored evening dress with puffed sleeves and a princess waist that just brushed the floor. It was one of her best dresses and suited her complexion well.

Just as Monifa put a last bobby pin in her hair to complete the bun a knock sounded at the door. When she opened it she was not surprised to find a girl about four years her junior waiting for her.

"I'm here to take you to your uncle Miss," she said in a solemn manner.

"Your not escorting me to a funeral you know," Monifa laughed, "I don't expect any sort of reverence because of my uncle." This earned a wide grin from the girl and Monifa saw her open up a bit.

"Sorry," she said also laughing, "I didn't realize I was coming off like that. By the way I'm Meg Giry."

"Monifa Firmin," Monifa replied, "But you can call me Nifa."

"I will," Meg continued "I suppose we best be getting to the front though, my mother will have my head if we're late!"

"I guess we better," Monifa agreed. "You're my first friend yet and you won't be much use mounted on a wall."

"You've got that right!" Meg agreed, teasingly putting a hand to her throat. With this they set off and chatted pleasantly until they got to the large front doors.

"Bye Meg. Come see me when you have some free time! I really did enjoy that!" Monifa said as she exited.

"I will! See you later Nifa" Meg agreed going back the way they had come.

When Monifa stepped out into the dimming light she realized it was now raining. Waiting for her under the overhang, was her uncle and a man she presumed to be his partner.

"Ah, there you are!" said Firmin, reaching out to take her hand. He placed a light kiss upon her knuckles and began introductions. "This is my partner Giles Andre," he said, glancing towards the man Monifa had noticed. "And this charming couple," he said gesturing to a couple she had not noticed before, "Are the Vicomte and Vicomtess de Chagny. Andre, Raoul, Christine, may I introduce to you, my charming niece Monifa."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," said Monifa bowing. With introductions made the group headed toward the carriage. Before she could follow, Monifa's uncle gently grasped her arm and turned her around.

"Monifa, it's very good to see you." He said gently, "How are you doing? You know, I can hardly believe what happened myself. I can't imagine the shock it must have been. And with how it hit your father…"

Monifa could feel unwanted tears and that once permanent lump in her throat return. "I'm doing well," she replied, and at his skeptical look, added, "Really." Firmin could tell this was not completely true, so he offered a rare show of feeling (rare from him at least), and pulled her into a quick hug.

"I will be here to talk to if you need me. My office will always be open." Monifa was touched by his offer.

"Thank you Uncle, I'll remember that," she replied, then clearing the lump in her throat she joked, "We'd better catch up though, I'm afraid Andre looked hungry and won't wait much longer." This brought a laugh of agreement form her uncle and they quickly got into the waiting carriage.

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Raoul helped Monifa out of the carriage in front of the Populare at the end of the night and she made her farewells before departing. Entering the Opera, Monifa made her way to the back from memory, hoping she'd paid close enough attention earlier. Monifa found her way backstage and was amazed at how different it was from earlier.

In the dark the area backstage was another world, solemn and brooding. Void from activity and color, it would be most threatening to many and seemed just the right atmosphere to spark ones imagination to tales of ghosts and other horrors. Monifa appreciated this quality and smiled at the chills that ran down her back. It was thrilling. Making her way through the still maze she let her mind wander and stories unfold in her head. She decided that moment that she would have to explore further some other night when she knew enough not to get lost.

Monifa herd a shuffle of movement above her on one of the top level platforms and looked up, curious. She reached a gloved hand out toward a ladder, and checked to see if it was stable. She positioned herself in front and put her foot on the first step. As she was about to place her weight on that first step, a hand came from behind and grabbed her shoulder. Monifa felt herself jump before being spun around.

"It is not wise to be out of one's room late at night, or to go nosing around this area," Madame Giry scolded, "You might injure yourself and find no help."

"For heavens sake, you must have a thing for sneaking up on people in this place. That's the second time today!" Monifa averted the conversation from the warning.

"And when else did you have the opportunity to be 'snuck up on' today?" Madame Giry asked pointedly.

Monifa grinned sheepishly, "Well you see, I got bored after you left me in my room this morning and I… well I found my way to the roof top," She stuttered, "It turns our one of the workers had seen me. He said he'd been outside moments before and the wind was strong enough that he worried for my safety."

"The Opera house if not a safe place to wander alone, at any time," Madame Giry warned, "You are not at home anymore, my dear, and you must be careful. For all our sakes."

"You thought I was alone? No, no, you see I've got this mouse in my pocket...," but seeing the serious look on the older woman's face she grudgingly said, "I understand. I promise to be more careful."

"Now, I trust you can find your room by now?" Giry asked, and at Monifa's nod said, "Then go on, get to bed." The older woman watched as Monifa started toward her room and when she was out of sight looked up before shaking her head and walking off.

Finding her room, Monifa drew out her key and unlocked the door, letting herself in. She had already dismissed the warning reasoning that she'd never promised not to go out alone, just that she would be careful. After changing into her nightgown she sat down on the chair in front of the vanity table.

Tonight had been very interesting. Dinner had been fun. She'd enjoyed the company of the other couple, and was grateful for it. She got enough stares with out being the only company of two older gentlemen. Raoul had been charming (if not a bit foppish, she admitted), and Christine kind. Both had eased her mind of a nervous thought of the attitude the people of Paris might have.

When Monifa started combing out her hair, the emptiness again closed around her. Whenever she brushed her hair, memories of her mother came to mind. It had been a nightly ritual. Every evening her mother would sit and talk with her about the day as she combed her hair, and the two would laugh and share stories. This had always been one of Monifa's favorite times of the day. It was the only time when she had her mother all to herself, and she had learned many things from Aminia. She had missed her dearly, ever since that fateful day.

Monifa had spent all of her life in one of the French colonies in Africa. That's where her parents had met and fallen in love. Aminia, her mother, was African, and a local leader's daughter. Her grandfather had not approved of the marriage and only his mother's pleas had kept her father from complete disownment. For this reason, and because her mother could not bear to leave her home, her father had stayed. He worked very hard (having lost his inheritance), made wise investments in mines, and started an agricultural estate.

So Monifa grew up in a colorful and exciting world. She had gotten used to the odd glances she'd recieved from the workers and residents of the small settlement a few miles outside of the estate. They had never been very kind. They resented her father because of his self-made success. And some of them where very racist and didn't like that he had married an African.

Last year, when she was about twenty-one (still at home because she had not married), her grandfather had died and her father had returned to France to bring his mother to stay with them and be cared for by their family in her old age. The trip took longer then he expected and he sent news he would be away another month.

It had happened about two weeks before he came home. They'd had similar things happen on a smaller scale before, but it had never been this bad. A few times they had attempted to get to him through them, but their little mobs where usually stopped by the law enforcement.

That wasn't the case this time, and her father hadn't been home to protect them, though heaven knows there would not have been much he could do. She had been very lucky to escape, but her mother hadn't been. She was killed before they mob was stopped, and Monifa had seen it all as they held her in place. She had seen them brutally beat her mother to death before turning on her. They managed to get in a few hits before she'd lashed out at them and gotten away down the cellar. The news crushed her father; he blamed himself for not being there. He'd gone into a deep depression and sent her to live here because he couldn't bear to see her hurt if such an event should happen again.

Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes; she missed Aminia and her father so much. After finishing up she went and sat down on her bed. It hurt to cry, but it hurt worse not to, so she let the tears flow. Much later, when the tears started to dry up she still sat quietly as sleep evaded her. Even though the tears where gone, the images stayed and Monifa was haunted by pictures of the horrible night. Unbidden she started to tremble, something she had never done before the accident, and she hated it. It made her feel so weak. There was nothing she hated more than weakness. When caught off guard like this, the only thing she could do to clam down was sing. So she sang.

The song that came to mind was her mother's lullaby, the one she'd not heard since the age of three. Monifa didn't know exactly how she remembered it, but it was like something from her soul, and her beautiful alto voice carried it wonderfully. It didn't take long for the exhaustion of travel to combine with her grief and catch up to her. She was soon sleeping soundly.

Not once did she know or think of the man who had paused in a near passage. He stopped, and for a brief moment forgot what he was doing as the pained tenderness in her voice sank into him. Then bewildered at this reaction he left quickly and quietly, just as he had come.

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A/N: Yeah, it all sounds a bit childish I know, but the experience would be traumatic so I really think it would affect anyone in a bad way. And back then, women stayed at home until they where married and she wasn't so she was still at home. I hope you liked it! Thanks again for the reviews! Keep 'em coming!


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